Third Star
by huggs5
Summary: Sherlock, riddled with terminal cancer, is taken by John, Lestrade and unfortunately Anderson to Barafundle Bay, where the inconceivable happens.
1. I'm fine

Third Star+Sherlock.

James= Sherlock  
>Davey= John<br>Bill= Lestrade  
>Myles= Anderson<p>

Classic AotW-esque thing, but going onto the story line of Third Star because I am freakin obsessed with this movie. **TECHNICALLY it's a crossover, but I can't find the category for the movie. So I just shoved it in here.** I just HAD to cast Anderson as Myles... I mean, come on, it suits perfectly right? I really wanted to have Lestrade as Myles because I though it would be easier to write, but I didn't want to leave Anderson out and shove Mycroft into it... because that would be awkward. But, anyway. Go watch the movie because it's perfect and just... ah, I just watched it and I still can't breathe properly. I was sobbing so hard... *sigh* I kind of abandoned my MorMor fic cos it wasn't working for me... I got a good knowledge of drugs now though C: I'm yet to convert the movie and put it on my iPod... which I will do. I might take the Fall off of it so I can write this all the time, I'll carry it around on a USB stick I'm so attatched to it. Anyway, I changed bits and pieces of the story to suit characters and whatnot, I sorta changed Anderson to suit everyone a little. I KNOW that everyone will be horribly OOC. And I'm also sick... so, uh... it may not be exactly 'quiality' as of yet. I've been sick for a week now and it's thrown everything out of whack. Also, my internet is down for a while... So I'm stuck with notepad and iTunes. Until I can hack something. I'm going off of a script I found, it's not exactly the same... but that's what I'll be roughtly following... and I'm getting so distracted by Benedicts' voice. It's pissing me off. I'm also having a problem with tenses, so... bear with me. Also, canon? What canon... I'm going to pretend that the Fall never happened. PS. I don't have word. Disregard any typos. AND THE EDITING ON THIS SITE IS SO DODGY.

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><p>"Sherlock Holmes... 37 years old today. I'm going to die young aren't I?" he chuckled to himself, flicking the small voice recorder around in his hand. "I could say more... but, what hasn't already been said? I needn't say anything more to John. Cancer scares him, as it did Mycroft. Though he never let it show around us. He has his collegues and a fair share of enemies to deal with. Lestrade, I think, is happy to get away from his wife, he built us all a cart to ride in. Transport for me and for the luggage. And... then there's Anderson. Don't even... ask, why we're bringing him with us. Lestrade thought it would be good to have an annoying dick on the ride. He said we could 'bond'."<br>He clenched his jaw, spinning the recorder around in his hand again before hitting the stop button with a trembling left thumb. He made sure to record all of his thoughts, deductions and anything important... like John. John... his eyes glazed over knowing what he'll do to him, cancer, of course. Of all things. He thought he would go out with a bang... chasing a criminal like Moriarty, or dying an old man. But, morphine was the only thing stopping him from screaming, his body left scarred and pained from the ravaging effects of the cancer. It was something he hid, most of the time. Until lately when everything got worse, Sherlock knew he was drawing to a close. But he was OK. Really.

He found himself out the back of 221b, sitting around a table [it was his birthday after all], staring across at Anderson coming through the back door. Anderson had stopped be the unbelievably annoying Anderson when he was told that Sherlock was dying, he was doing it for John, who was hit the hardest by the news. Sherlock took the last from his drink and stood up, much to the disappointment of everyone else, and limped outside, leaning heavily on his cane. The decor was white, the table also, the table cloth was printed in funny colors and designs. Mrs Hudson had set everything up. Even down to the cake, which she insisted, must have 37 candles. Sherlock cracked a smile at the bickering he and Mrs Hudson had gone through. He sat down on a discarded chair, propping his cane against the side of it.

"Well, you look horrible," Anderson muttered, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

"I was about to say the same to you, Anderson," Sherlock replied with a half smile. "This is a good day mind you, what are you going to do on the trip?"

Anderson laughed, flicking his hair out of his face, "Barafundle Bay is a long way to walk, you know."

"Lestrade made the cart remember?"

Sherlock fiddled with the camera, adjusting the lense and setting it on Auto while John tossed things into the back of the right red van. Anderson stood off to the side and watched him struggle with it- the technologicaly handicapped Sherlock he is- until he heard the strum of a guitar. Of course, Lestrade's NEW new obsession. Last time it was the clarinet.

"No! No. No way," he shouted, pointing menancingly to a very confused Lestrade.

"Come on!" he glared at Anderson then put on puppy eyes at Sherlock who grinned and shook his head, not looking up from the camera. "John?"

John extracted himself from the back of the van, smacking his head on the side of it, "Ow!" he rubbed his head while talking, "We did agree, remember?"

Lestrade sulked before shoving the guitar at Mycroft, "Fine..." he grumbled.

Everyone had tossed aside their usual formal attire and had gone out and bought new clothes, spray jackets, beanies, jeans, actual hiking boots and casual clothes. Though Sherlock had kept his blue scarf and John had kept his black and white striped shirt, even though they weren't supposed to. This was going to be a holiday, vacation... whatever you want to call it- for the hard working officers of Scotland Yard. All the men anyway.

"Have a safe trip!" Mycroft said, shaking Sherlock's hand, then John's. "Don't wear my brother out too much."

Sherlock smiled a little at Sally, giving her a wave with the camera. "I guess... I'll see you all when I arrive home again."

Mrs Hudson tottered up to him, wrapping her arms around his chest, "Be safe, no big risks now Sherlock."

"I know, Mrs Hudson, I'll be careful."

_That was a lie._

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><p><strong>Sorry for the shortness. I just wanted to see if anyone was interested...? Please R&amp;R. Pleeeeeeease. <strong>


	2. Would you shut the fuck up please?

Ok, guys. Second chapter. I would have had it up sooner if dad didn't come home with Singstar for the playstation. So... whoops. Thank you guys for the reviews! :D You made me sooooo so so so happy! C: I'll be distracted by Christopher and His Kind in a little while, cos I'm going to download it and watch the crap out of it. For... reasons. like a naked Matt Smith Me Gusta Oh, look, it's raining outside :3 wonders of living in Australia, Up at 6:30 and it was bright and sunny, two hours and its pouring rain.I leave my window open and my music off because I love the sound of rain, I just don't like it when it rains into my room . I'm also debating whether I should put in some fluffy Johnlock...?  
>Anyway, again, you have to disregard typos. Still using notepad you see.<p>

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><p>Sherlock held the camera in one hand, filming the happenings in the van. Lestrade was driving, Anderson was kicking in the back seat, spreading his feet germs all over the place. John was almost silent with infectious laughter, covering his face with one hand while not actually breathing properly. He had to lie down after five minutes for fear of passing out. But, no one actually knew why anyone started laughing so hard.<p>

-...-

They were in the shop, Sherlock limping around, pocking things with his cane. He was bored. Really, really, really... bored. John had stabbed him in the arm a few times with his elbow, scolding him for jabbing a teenager in the back, knocking over a can of tomato soup from the shelf and 'accidentally' hitting Anderson in the back of the head.

"My hand slipped, I'm telling you!"

-...-

They had finally pulled into their destination, the bright red van blended in well with the other vans scattered around the grassed area. Anderson jumped out straight away, he was all smiles and laughs, where as Sherlock was having a difficult time getting out. "John, I can't get out," he called, sticking his cane out the window at his direction. "Help?"  
>However, John was busy hauling the cart from the back to help and Anderson ended up pulling him out, 'accidentally' getting elbowed in the ribs. Truthfully, it didn't bother him as much as it used to. "Move your arse Sherlock," he complained, folding his arms, watching Sherlock make his way slowly to the cart.<p>

"Get on," Lestrade nodded to him, swishing his jacket and pointed to the yellow barred metal framed contraption. "We packed everything around the seat so you didn't sit on anything."

Sherlock shook his head, "I want to start this journey on my own feet."

Indeed he did, for about half an hour actually, before he fell against a tree. "John!"

John stopped talking to Lestrade and looked around for him. "You want to ride the cart now?"

Sherlock nodded, flicking his cane around in his hand like he did with everything he touched. "Yes. Uhm, help?"

He sat on the cart, talking and chattering with the rest of the group, Lestrade pushed and John stayed on the tree side of everything, meaning he hit quite a few of them. "So," he pursed his lips, deep in thought, "What are we going to do is this thing... breaks?"

Lestrade groaned, "Not this aga-"

But before he could finish speaking, a loud crack issued from the cart, tipping it sidewards and almost throwing Sherlock off of it. "Malfunction!" he called, propping himself up with his cane.

Anderson snorted, "Smooth, Lestrade. Real smooth."

"Shut. Up," he snapped, bending down, inspecting the wheels, one of which was loose, "Sherlock, you'll have to get off."

It was his turn to grumble as he managed to haul himself up, using his cane and the cart to help. John reached for him, but he smacked his hand away. "I'm fine!"

"Gee whiz..." Lestrade muttered.

"Did I just hear you say 'gee whiz'?" Anderson laughed, "Gee whiz!" he made jazz hands and cracked up.

Lestrade glared at him, "I'm exasperated, ok! Now someone get me the toolbox?"

"Packed away," John muttered.

"Well, get it out!"

"Gee whiz!"

-...-

Lestrade had made tea, settled down for the night and was dunking biscuits in it. "You know, biscuits by themselves are good. But, when you dip them in tea," he did just that and bit off the wet part, "They become a whole different journey."

Anderson shook his head before trying it, "Mm."

-...-

Well, now that Sherlock can't actually stand, he has to get someone to help him piss. Usually always John. "You piss way more than you used to," John muttered, holding Sherlock's arm to stop him from falling over, "It must be a side effect of the medica-"

"Would you shut the fuck up, please," Sherlock grunted.

-...-

"I read over your case files the other day," Lestrade nodded to Anderson, almost throwing a biscuit at him too in his haste to get his attention. "You should really neaten things up."

"They're my case files! I can be however I want with them," Anderson narrowed his eyes and scowled.

"Just saying... no one else can read them."

"What if I don't want anyone else to read them?"

-...-

"You pissing makes me want to piss."

"Well piss then!" Sherlock replied with a small chuckle.

"Hold on," John still held him, but he turned around to face the bush.

Sherlock poked him in the side and laughed.

-...-

So much had changed since he found out, first, he wouldn't eat for days at a time, stuck in a spiral of depression and anger. Second he started to appreciate the little things, the way John made tea, the way he looks to see if Sherlock's watching the rubbish on TV before he changes the channel. Third, he started looking at people differently, he was working with Anderson and Sally, as though he wanted to make everything right before he died. He even went as far as to change his attitude to everything. He still got bored and he still fired bullets at the wall, but he was more... open minded to everything and happy. John was loving it.

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><p><strong>Again with the shortness? Fu. Anyway, the editor on here is really annoying. Soo... disregard any formatting issues. Unless it makes it really really hard to read. Then tell me. Sorry for the -...- It was pissing me off.<strong>


	3. I AM SO SORRY!

**Technically I'm not allowed to do this. But I am. Sue me.**

**I am very, very, very, VERY, sorry for not updating as soon as it was requested. I've been weighed down with school work and just... life stuff that you don't need to know about. Anyway, I'm going to start it up again. Apparently [according to my RP buddies] my style has changed. Probably because I was RP'ing with a good friend of mine who I can't actual get in a lot of contact with anymore. ANYWAY OMG. Watching it now and I'll be watching it AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN to get the story back into my head. So, I'll try and make them longer and I might write the major bits first, then update later with the fillers. Maybe even make an entire new post with them all. Specifically just so it's easier. **

**/rant over.**

**I'll hope to update later tonight C:**


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